


Don't blame me for falling

by Eversincefiveboys



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Music, Musician Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Watford (Simon Snow), simon is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eversincefiveboys/pseuds/Eversincefiveboys
Summary: “Don’t you know some kind of spell, or something? Something that can reveal its’ true meaning?”“I don’t believe it can have much meaning, Simon. Maybe he really just has a piece of music on his desk about snow, you know, like the precipitation.”“Come on, Penny! You don’t think this is some stupid coincidence! He despises me and has taken numerous attempts at my life! Of course this has to mean something!”Or:Simon finds a piece of music written by Baz titled 'Snow'. While he is convinced it is one of Baz's new plots, Baz knows it is most definitely not that, more like a very honest love-confession.(NO spoilers for wayward son)
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 6
Kudos: 165





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have returned with another Snowbaz fic that took me months to write. I kept my promise and this time the story is not about them drinking alcohol! It is still set at watford and another getting-together fic because I love doing those and also because I can't handle the pain that is Wayward son. I have decided to post this in chapters, not really sure why? There'll be only 3 and they're not super long! Also have finished it completely so there won't be that long between updates.  
> It's set during one of their last years at Watford and I'm guessing Agatha just doesn't really exist (I do really like her especially in wayward son but i kind of forgot to include her in this, apologies).  
> Also please let me know if you spot typos/mistakes so I can edit!
> 
> Title is taken from Harry Styles' "To Be So Lonely" because I cannot stop listening to Fine Line.

**Chapter 1**

It’s just lying there, on Baz’s desk. Between most of his stuff and after Simon had thoroughly combed through every notebook and folder, but still – it was just there, out in the open like that! A page of sheet music, titled _Snow_. Simon stared at it, the folder he had picked up to reveal the paper forgotten in his hand. Why did Baz have a page of music with his name on it? Why did his arch nemesis have a piece of sheet music lying (okay, kind of hidden) on his desk, titled with Simon’s sir-name? (it might have crossed his mind that Snow was not only a name but also a thing, but it couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, could it?). It must mean that Baz was plotting something. Something extremely elaborate, involving some kind of secret language through music, and Simon had to find out what it was.

He had to admit he’d broken some general rules between them in this room. Not that they’d ever formally established them, but it was unspoken between them that they just didn’t go through each other things the way Simon had just done. It was simply not done, as it’d mean absolutely no privacy between them. And if one did it, it meant the other was allowed to do it back to retaliate. And it’s not like Simon isn’t aware of that unspoken rule, but he’d just been having a feeling that Baz was planning something. He’d been staring at Simon more than usual. Baz had been in the room more often than normal. He’d also not been saying much – which Simon didn’t complain about – but it meant fewer insults and more staring. Simon was also nearly completely sure that several times when he’d been having nightmares Baz had woken him up by saying his name (but that might have just been part of the nightmare, because every time Simon asked about it Baz was back asleep). Anyway, it meant that Baz was plotting something, and Simon was going to find out what, which led him to start his search on Baz’s desk. He is kind of relieved it means he doesn’t not have to search any further – he doesn’t really feel like going through all of Baz’s clothes and underwear drawer; but he is also extremely confused as to what this means. He really wishes he could read music. There is some hidden meaning under all those notes and lines on that paper, and Simon will find out what it is, even if it kills him.

He runs to the library to find Penny reading some thick book on how to improve spells, but she looks up when she hears him come in. She raises an eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing here, Simon, in your spare time?”

“I need to talk to you. It’s urgent,” he replies, getting some stares from people around him who were clearly appreciating the silence before Simon came in.

“Is it the humdrum?” Penny whispers while closing the book and getting up from her table.

“No, it’s Baz,” Simon whispers back and drags her out of the library. He can hear her sigh behind him, but he doesn’t pay it any attention. As soon as they’re out in the hallway and he’s checked if no one is around, he says: “I’ve found some clear evidence that he is plotting something!” Penny rolls her eyes.

“You say this like, every day, Simon.”

“Yeah but this time it’s true! I found something written in code on his desk, it’s got my name on it!”

This does catch Penny’s attention, as usually the only evidence Simon has is ‘he’s been looking at me more than usual’ or ‘he coughed twice this morning!’

“Okay, what is it?”

“It’s written in _music_ , because he knows I don’t understand that!” Simon says as he takes out the folded paper from his back pocket and opens it to show Penny. She studies the paper for a second and then shakes her head.

“I don’t read music, Simon. I have no idea what it says.”

“Don’t you know some kind of spell, or something? Something that can reveal its’ true meaning?”

She shakes her head again and knits her eyebrows together, frowning.

“I don’t believe it can have much meaning, Simon. Maybe he really just has a piece of music on his desk about _snow_ , you know, like the precipitation.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Come on! You don’t think this is some stupid coincidence! He _despises_ me and has taken numerous attempts at my life! Of course this has to mean something.” Simon is starting to feel hot, he can’t believe Penny doesn’t believe him. How can this not be obvious to her?

“Maybe,” she says, unknitting her eyebrows and giving him a weak smile. “I’ll have a look through some books, okay, and see if there’s some spell that can translate music.”

He knows she’s only doing it to please him and get rid of him, but he doesn’t mind. As long as she’s working on it, it means Simon is closer to finding out the truth.

“Thanks, Pen, you’re the best!” He gives her a quick hug and dashes back to his room.

There is no way that Simon is going to sleep tonight. He is not planning on even taking a nap. He is going to stay awake and study his arch-nemesis roommate, who is clearly involved in some plot to kill him soon. Simons stays up until Baz comes back from his nightly trip to the catacombs. He pretends to be asleep, though, but he listens to every movement Baz makes. Once Baz is asleep, Simon sits up in his bed with his back against the wall, staring at Baz. He doesn’t really know what he is going to find out just by looking at him, but he also knows going to sleep in the same room as the person who is going to kill him is not an option anymore.

He studies Baz’ breathing rhythm. The evil vampire is curled up and looks so perfectly nice when he’s asleep. His hair looks soft and his lips are slightly parted, letting a snore escape every once in a while. He looks so _peaceful_ , he really doesn’t look like someone who would kill his roommate at the first chance he got. Watching this peaceful Baz makes Simon sleepy, there really isn’t that much to a sleeping vampire, although he is pretty mesmerizing with his breathing and his soft hair. It’s pathetic, he knows it, but admittedly Simon is a bit jealous of the way Baz sleeps, he knows he definitely does not look as graceful as his evil roommate. Proving his point, Simon dozes off, his head against the wall in an extremely uncomfortable position and drool dribbling down his chin. When he wakes, it’s 6 am and the sun is coming up outside.

Simon cracks his neck and wipes off the drool with the back of his hand as he tries to find a more comfortable position to sit in on his bed. Baz stirs, and Simon tenses. It’s probably not the best idea to let Baz know that he’s been watching him this whole night (except for the few hours that he fell asleep). Then, Baz turns to face him, his eyes wide open.

“What the hell, Snow?” he grunts. Simon can’t pretend that he was asleep, he didn’t even have time to lie back down again. Why is Baz so _fast_?

“What?” Simon replies, hating himself for not coming up with any good comebacks in those hours he stayed up watching Baz because he was too distracted by admiring the way this boy sleeps.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Baz sits up, his back against the wall, mirroring Simon.

“I’m not, I’m just sitting.” He knows it’s a weak excuse, but he can’t really come up with anything better, not when Baz is looking at him with such as wicked expression on his face. He looks so _angry_. His lips are pulled into one of his sneers and Simon is sure that if he wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he was a vampire he would be baring his fangs right about now.

“Don’t lie to me, Snow. Why are you watching me sleep?” he says through his clenched teeth and Simon is starting to feel angry too. Baz has that effect on him. “Have you been watching me _all night?_ ”

“You’re plotting something!” Simon states angrily, abandoning his place against the wall and scooting over the side of his bed, leaning forward so he can make eye contact with Baz. “I’m watching you because you are plotting something!”

At those words, Baz’s anger vanishes and he visibly relaxes and rolls his eyes, smirking at him. “You always think that. What a waste of your night.” Simon’s anger, however, does not disappear.

“I’m right! You are plotting something,” Simon says, pointing his finger accusingly.

“I promise I’m not plotting anything, Snow,” Baz says, shrugging, even displaying some kind of relaxed smile.

His attitude pushes on Simon’s anger, his muscles are tense and he can feel his jaw is clenched. He hates that Baz is being so dismissing and nonchalant, while the evidence was right on his desk yesterday. He hates how Baz can remain so calm and collected when all Simon wants to do is shout at him. And before he can stop himself, he does just that.

“You have tried to kill me multiple times! I know you’ll try it again!” He jumps up from his bed, not being able to sit still with all this energy coming to the surface.

“I have not, Snow,” Baz says, sighing. “You’re delusional.”

“YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE STAIRS!” Simon yells, throwing up his hands in despair. He will never be able to keep his calm around Baz, and at this point he doesn’t want to. He strongly dislikes this boy, for being calm and collected when Simon wants to scream, for being a straight-up liar and for sleeping so beautifully, and for always, _always_ pushing Simon over the edge. He sees Baz becoming pale (like, even whiter than he usually is) at Simon’s outburst. Baz swallows. He doesn’t seem so relaxed anymore.

“I know you won’t believe me but pushing you down the stairs was never my intention. I have never actually tried to kill you, Snow.” Baz stays calm but he is still paler than usual, and Simon can hear anger in his voice.

“Fuck you, Baz, I know you’ve tried to kill me, and I know you’re trying to do it again,” Simon says through gritted teeth, balling his hands into fists to try and push his magic back into his body. He can feel it trying to get to the surface. And although he wouldn’t actually mind blowing up in Baz’s face and scorching his eyebrows off, he _hates_ going off more than he hates Baz.

“Fuck off, Snow,” is Baz’s reply as he starts getting up from his bed.

“I have proof, this time!” Simon shouts and Baz snorts as he faces him.

“Sure. It’s hard to have proof of something that isn’t actually real.”

Simon reaches into his back pocket and produces the now crumpled piece of paper, unfolds it and shows it to Baz, careful to leave enough distance between them so Baz can’t just rip it out of his hands. Baz freezes as he sees the piece of paper. His eyes widen so slightly only someone who had been studying Baz’s expressions for years, like Simon, would notice. Slowly, panic washes all over Baz’s face.

“Where did you get that?” his speech is less calm and composed than moments earlier. Simon feels euphoric – it _is_ true! And this time he can actually prove it!

“It was sticking out of one of your books,” Simon lies.

“You have absolutely no right to go through my stuff, Snow.”

“I know and I am sorry about that.” He means that. He is sorry for breaking their unspoken privacy rules. “But it’s evidence!”

“It’s not, it’s just music.” Baz snaps.

“It’s titled with my name!” Simon says, his voiced raised as he points to the title of the piece of music. “I KNOW it’s a secret language!”

He expects Baz to laugh at him, or to spit in his face, or yell at him, or _anything_ displaying his anger. Instead, Baz says: “I swear it is not.”

“So why would you title it Snow, then?”

Baz blinks fast twice, as if trying to collect his thoughts. He sounds slightly desperate for Simon to believe him when he says: “It’s not your name, it’s the weather!”

Simon laughs at that. He can’t help it. When Penny said it, it sounded sort-of believable. But now that Baz speaks the words so desperately, he just knows it’s a lie.

“Whatever, I don’t believe you. If you won’t tell me, then please excuse me as I go investigate this further. And trust me, I will get to the bottom of this.”

“Why would I write in a secret language about you and then title it Snow? How stupid do you think I am?”

“You are pretty thick, clearly. The way you think I’ll believe anything you say.”

“Fuck you, Snow, you’re the thick one if you really believe this means something.”

“Whatever, Baz. I’m not going to let you kill me. I’m going to investigate this.” And with that, Simon grabs his shoes and a hoodie and runs out of the door, leaving a desperate, shocked Baz behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The song starts slow, tentative. It quickly picks up a pace, as Baz was trying to get across what Snow is like, an unstoppable force coming at him, bright as the sun and burning just as much. But there’s also tones of love, and want and need, shimmering through the quick intense pace and dark notes that are Snow. Baz knows he wrote it, but he has to admit it does sound beautiful. Sad, dangerous and beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd update extremely soon so here's chapter 2!  
> As always, let me know if you spot typo's/mistakes :)

**Chapter 2**

Baz, who is still in his pyjama’s - because Snow didn’t give him bloody time to wake up and get dressed by springing this on him at the ass-crack of dawn – decides he does not have time to worry about his appearance. This is too important. Snow can never find out, he must absolutely never.  
He thought Snow was bluffing at first, that he had some crazy idea about a plot again for absolutely no reason except for his fixation on the idea that Baz is trying to kill him. Which, for the record, he truly isn’t. And well, before that, he thought (or hoped) Snow was watching him sleep for a completely different reason. He wishes Snow had been watching him sleep just because he wanted to, because he liked looking at Baz. Baz hates himself for getting his hopes up that way, but he can’t help himself. It would just be so nice to wake up one day and not fight with Snow. It would also be lovely for Snow not to genuinely believe Baz has tried to kill him in the past, but life isn’t fair – especially Baz’s life.

He has never walked out of this room looking anything less than perfect, but to avoid Snow finding out his secret he will have to sacrifice his reputation of perfection and stop his roommate before it’s too late.

He isn’t really sure how Snow would find out what the music means, because first of all the boy is basically illiterate –definitely in music – and secondly, it doesn’t actually have a meaning in the sense that Snow believes it does. It has a meaning, alright, but Snow will never even understand. Which is probably for the best. Still, he can’t risk Snow showing the music to everyone, or worse – play it out loud.  
The moment Snow slams the door shut, Baz puts on his shoes quicker than he has ever done before. He grabs a hoodie and his wand to set off after him. When that boy is on the edge of going off, he is faster than normal, but Baz has superior vampire power so he shouldn’t be far behind. He makes his way down the stairs just as Snow exists Mummers house. He is in full panic mode, if he is honest. It’s just all extremely embarrassing and he only wrote that when he was in a depressed mood because he realized, once again, that his idiot of a roommate would never return this feelings, even if they could settle all the our-destiny-is-to-fight-to-the-death issues between them. And while he might be a vampire with anger issues, he has another way to deal with his emotions, which is pouring them all into his music. He started doing that over summer at home, because his mind was driving him crazy – to a greater extent than normal, and the only way to find some relief was by pouring it all into music. At first, he just played pieces on his violin, but then he started composing them too and found them to help him even more. It just filled him with a sense of relief and calm, finally being able to express what he was feeling, finally addressing his emotions. More often than not, tears would stream down his face while he played a song he composed. Now, he sincerely regrets carrying on this therapy back at Watford.

He sees Snow running across the lawn to the breakfast hall and for a moment he hopes that maybe the boy’s love for food had trumped his desire to investigate the music paper, but he sets after him anyway.

He isn’t wrong – Snow’s love for food does win for a second as Baz sees him grabbing a sour cherry scone on his way in. Baz sighs in relief when he enters, as Simon, scone in his hand, is headed for the table where Penny is sitting. The sigh catches in his throat though as Snow marches straight past Penny to a table of 6th years. He recognizes the girl – Laura – Snow approaches as the girl that plays the first violin in the school string quartet.

Baz feels the sweat break out and knows if he’d fed more recently than last night his face would be turning red right now. He has never before felt this panicked. He needs to stop this from happening. He’s about to get extremely embarrassed and he really doesn’t want that.  
“Snow!” he says as he marches up to him, ignoring the stares people give him because he is in his pyjamas. Other people are rolling their eyes because they’ve experienced these rows so many times before. But this is different. For Baz, this is a case of life or death.

Simon ignores him.

“Laura, you play the violin, right?” he says, probably scaring the girl with the piercing look in his eyes. Her big green eyes pass between Simon and Baz behind him for a second as she nods and stammers “y-yeah, why?”

“I need your help,” Simon declares, and it all sounds extremely dramatic.

“Me? But I don’t even know you,” the girl says, obviously reluctant to give help to someone who is notorious for endangering those around him.

“Stop it, Snow,” Baz says, grabbing his wand but not really knowing what he’d do with it. Simon ignores him.

“Come with me to the music room, please,” Simon says, and Baz knows without seeing his face, that he’s got that pleading look in his eyes that no-one can resist (except for Baz because he’s trained himself in it from day one).  
Baz wants to yell at him to stop. He wants to grab him and fish that stupid piece of paper out of his back-pocket and destroy it on the spot. He also knows it is extremely stupid to let this embarrassment and anger lead to a dramatic fight that will get him kicked out of Watford. This isn’t an actual plot to kill Snow and he realises that if he does stop him, Baz will never be able to prove that he isn’t actually trying to get rid of him (please, if he was he’d already succeeded years ago. That boy is an idiot). It’s too late to stop him as the girl nods with a puzzled look on her face, but gets up from the table. Horrified, Baz realizes that now the whole dining room has seen him in his pyjama’s for absolutely no reason. He must look completely insane, standing here in his pyjama’s with his wand out. He should’ve just stayed in the damn room and not turn this into a dramatic show. It dawns on him that if he had just pretended from the start that there was nothing going on, Snow probably would’ve never ran to get someone to play the music for him. And even if he did, he wouldn’t have been suspicious because it wouldn’t have looked like it meant anything. Now, Baz realizes and hates himself more and more for it, it looks like he really is trying to hide something from Simon. Snow turns around and makes eye-contact with Baz, throwing him a daring look as if to say ‘what are you going to do to stop me?’. He doesn’t say anything though, just pushes past Baz to Bunze’s table to recruit her on his way to the music room, the violinist girl, Laura, following close behind with a worried expression on her face. Baz knows he could run after them and grab the piece of paper or use some kind of spell to stop it all, but it’s too dramatic and obvious, and he might as well just let them listen to his stupid piece of therapy and soon pretend none of this ever happened, as Simon won’t understand any of it anyway.

“Simon, what are you doing and why are you involving Laura in this?” Penny asks as they race out of the dining hall, making their way to the music room.

“He basically admitted it was proof for something, Pen, I need to find out what it is. And I don’t read music and neither do you, so I needed some help okay?” He throws Laura a quick smile.

“I’m sorry to drag you along, but it’s really important.”

Laura shrugs, her initial worry seems to melt away slowly. “It’s fine, as long as I can get back to breakfast after.”

They reach the music room, and Simon scans the hallway for Baz, but he isn’t anywhere to be seen. He wonders what made him decide not to follow them, maybe it’s all part of the plot. Maybe the paper will blow up in their faces somehow once she’s finished playing it, or something even worse than that. Simon decides not to share that thought with his friends, as he is willing to take the risk just to find out what is on that bloody paper. And he also knows he’ll most likely be able to protect the two girls, he wouldn’t just risk their lives that easily.

“Why are you so desperate to hear this piece of music first thing in the morning, anyway?” Laura asks as she grabs a case and starts taking out the violin.

“I don’t think it’s a normal piece of music. I think it’s something that’ll tell me about Baz’s plot,” Simon explains, tapping his foot involuntarily in an impatient manner.

“Looks completely normal to me,” Laura says.

“Chances are this isn’t really a plot, he sees plots everywhere,” Penny says, preparing the stand and smoothing the piece of paper so Laura can actually read it.

“Hey!” Simon complains. “We’ll find out, alright? I know I’m right this time.”

Baz decides to follow at a slow pace. He wants to know what they think, but he doesn’t want them to know he’s there. Admittedly, he is also a bit curious to see what his song sounds like played by someone else. He follows them but hides so that when Snow does his little check, he isn’t found. He waits just outside the door, his heart beating so fast in his chest he can only be thankful _he_ is the Vampire and not anyone else, or he would’ve been heard from miles away. It doesn’t take long before the first notes start playing, and Baz gets that feeling again. The feeling that never really goes away but comes to the surface like a painful blister whenever he _thinks_ too much about it. Whenever he thinks too much about how much he doesn’t want to fight with Snow each day, how much he wants to be normal roommates, or friends even. Or, possibly, if there was any chance of Snow feeling the same way, _more_ than friends. It is the feeling he gets whenever he’s had another fight with Snow, the feeling he gets whenever he studies Snow in his room, memorizing the pattern of freckles on his face. It’s the feeling he gets whenever Snow stares at him, as if he’s trying to figure out Baz’s secret. The feeling of heartache, because he knows he will never be allowed to love Simon. The song starts slow, tentative. It quickly picks up a pace, as Baz was trying to get across what Snow is like, an unstoppable force coming at him, bright as the sun and burning just as much. But there’s also tones of love, and want and need, shimmering through the quick intense pace and dark notes that are Snow. Baz knows he wrote it, but he has to admit it does sound beautiful. Sad, dangerous and beautiful.

Simon has never been into classical music. He doesn’t know anything about it, and couldn’t name five composers if his life depended on it. But, he knows, he _feels_ that this is a beautiful piece of music. He can’t help it the goose bumps forming all over his body. His breath catches in his throat as the song becomes more intense, dark, but a beautiful kind of dark. It’s sad, but it’s also happy and beautiful. Simon wouldn’t be able to describe it, but if he didn’t know about real magic he’d say that this was as close as it could get. It’s so intense he gets absorbed into it, forgets about the reason why he’s listening to the song, forgets who is playing it and forgets who he’s in the room with. He closes his eyes without thinking about it and gets completely enveloped in the music. He has never experienced anything like this, it’s beautiful. If he wasn’t so absorbed in it, he would have been wondering by now if it was some kind of spell somehow. Tears form behind his closed eyelids and escape as the music gets more intense. He can’t think about anything else, except that it is so painful and so beautiful to listen to. When the song is over, he opens his eyes and looks at Penny, who also has tears down her cheeks.

“That what beautiful,” she whispers. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”

Simon nods. “There’s so much pain in it, I felt it.” His voice is raw. He clears his throat.

Laura nods and puts the violin back in its’ case.

“That was amazing,” she says. “whoever wrote that is so extremely talented.”

Simon blinks twice, trying to get back to his normal senses. _Whoever wrote that_. Whoever… Baz! The secret message. What did this mean? Why would Baz write something like this?

“What does it mean?” Simon demands

“What do you mean ‘what does it mean?’, couldn’t you feel it?” Laura replies, her eyebrows raised, tears still in her eyes.

“No, I could feel it, but what is the secret message. Was it a secret language, is there a plot or plan or something?”

Laura purses her lips, thinks for a moment and then shakes her head resolutely.

“I don’t think it had a secret message, Simon. The message was very clear. Whoever wrote this is very much in love, in a very painful, unrequited, unattainable kind of way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please leave kudo's/comments/feedback and I'll post the last chapter within the next three days!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. I want you to talk to me.”
> 
> “And why would I suddenly do that, Snow,” Baz laughs frustratedly, a tear rolling from his left eye. Simon notices he’s not trying to deny that he’s hurting.
> 
> “Because – don’t ask me why because I have no freaking clue, but I care!”
> 
> Baz laughs harder at that, but there’s no joy in it. “You don’t, Snow.”
> 
> “I do, too! I’ve been thinking about you the whole day! I want to know what’s going on and what made you compose something like that.”
> 
> “Why are you so stubborn?!”
> 
> “You’ll just have to deal with it, and tell me. I know you’re not telling anyone else, and clearly you’re in a right state so just tell me.”
> 
> “You’ve heard the music, Snow, you know what’s wrong. Crowley, you really are thick.” Another tear rolls down Baz’s face and he wipes it away frustratedly. He looks like a cornered, scared cat. The pain the music described so well is displayed on his face. He still looks beautiful, though, Simon thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the last chapter! Thanks everyone who has been reading and leaving kudo's :).   
> As usual, let me know if there's any mistakes or typos
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

Baz has been avoiding Snow and his friends the whole day, which was easy fortunately, due to extra football practice and extending his visits to the catacombs. It’s night, now, though and Baz can’t stay out the whole time, it’s too cold and he needs a shower. All he can do is hope Simon is asleep when he sneaks back in, because he has no idea what Simon is planning on doing after he heard the music. Baz ran away after the song ended and the three of them in that room discussed things about _someone being so in love but it being unrequited_ , because he couldn’t handle hearing people talk about this. He also hated himself for how obvious the music had been and wished he could just disappear from Watford for a while. He wishes he could lock himself in the library at home and drown his feelings by playing his violin. His only hope though, is that Snow has forgotten all about it because it clearly was not a secret message for some plot. And Simon doesn’t care about him, so he also doesn’t care about the fact that Baz is in love with someone. In a desperate, unrequited way. He expects endless remarks and teasing, but he can deal with that, as long as Snow doesn’t think it’s about him. He’s worried, though, because the top of the page very clearly said _Snow_ in his own handwriting and there’s nothing he can do to change that.

Baz opens the door to their room as quietly as possible, but Simon hasn’t even attempted to go to sleep. The light is still on and Snow is sitting on his bed, his leg bouncing nervously, his elbows leaning on his knees and his face balanced in his hands, fingers tapping against his cheeks in rhythm with his leg.

“There you are!” he exclaims and stands up so fast, it’s as if he has vampire speed. For a second it looks as if he’s going to approach Baz, then he seems to catch himself and hesitates, staying in the same spot on the floor “Where have you been?”

“None of your business, Snow,” Baz says as he grabs his towel and pyjamas with the idea of immediately heading to the shower, so he does not need to have any contact with Snow. He avoids looking at Snow directly. It’s difficult and painful at the moment, to be confronted with him. It reminds him of everything he can’t have.

“It bloody well is my business!” Snow says, raising his voice. “I know you’re plotting something and when you disappear for a whole day and I don’t have eyes on you- … I mean- I live in constant fear of my life! Even more than usual I mean.” He stumbles over his words.

Baz sighs audibly. He’s getting tired of this. He’s told Simon numerous times that he is not plotting something. And from the music it must’ve become clear that he’s just a miserable sad vampire at the moment, trying to drag himself from day to day in the hope that maybe the future will offer him something slightly brighter (which is impossible – nothing is brighter than Simon Snow).

“Fuck off, Snow. I am in no mood to deal with you right now,” he says, running his hand through his hair and letting his hand drop to his face.

“You’re never in a mood to deal with me.”

“You’re right. So kindly fuck off.”

“I just want to know, Baz, what that whole music thing was about,” Simon’s voice is getting softer, lower. Baz removes his hand from his face to finally make eye contact with Snow. Does he- Does he actually look… concerned?

Simon hasn’t been relaxed since he heard the music Baz wrote. He is still convinced it means something. It has to. And he wants to find out what. Baz avoiding him the whole day after the whole thing is unusual, as he’d normally pester Simon to give up. But Simon hasn’t seen him the whole day, and it started to worry him. He convinced himself it was just because Baz was actually planning something against him and Simon needed to stay on high alert. Heck, that’s even what he told Baz when Simon stood up like a worried parent waiting for their drunk teenager to return home. But it’s not the truth. Ever since he heard the music, something inside him had shifted. He kept thinking about it and in how much pain someone must be to write something as sad and beautiful as that. He thought he knew Baz – he’d studied him every day for years, so much that he _knew_ Baz was a vampire – but he didn’t know this. He didn’t know Baz was so _sad_. He didn’t know Baz was hurting this much. He just assumed Baz was evil, he never really thought of him as someone who has feelings. Or rather, someone who feels this deeply. It shocked Simon. At first, he didn’t believe Baz really wrote it, but he recognized the handwriting. Baz had written music that came from a feeling deep within, no one could produce something this beautiful and not mean it, not even someone like Baz. And Simon started to feel bad. Because he’d been watching Baz for years, and he had never noticed. But he wanted to know what was going on, why his evil-plotting-roommate wrote something like this. He had never seemed interested in any girl – or boy – in the school, he’d never paid much attention to anyone, not in that way. So _what_ was going on that Baz felt this deeply? And more importantly, why was it titled _Snow_ , of all things?

“Just drop it, Snow. I swear on my mother’s grave I am _not_ plotting something against you. Want me to swear it with magic, too? I will, if it gets you to stop asking,” Baz growls frustratedly, dropping his towel and pyjama’s back on his bed and taking out his wand, ready to swear on magic. Simon shakes his head quickly.

“No, there’s no need. I believe you,” he says. Baz’s eyes widen so slightly only someone who’s studied Baz for years would’ve noticed the change. “I just-“. Simon tries to find the words. What does he want to say? He’s not even sure why, but he just feels like he needs to talk to Baz, he needs to ask him about this, because the goose bumps from the music keep coming back to him whenever he thinks about those beautiful sounds.

“I was just wondering-” Simon tries again, while Baz stares at him.

“Use your words, Snow.”

“Fine. Are you okay?”

Baz takes a step back, as if he physically needs to process the impact of this question. The movement is what Simon needs as proof that Baz is not okay. If he was, he would’ve said something like ‘fine, thanks for asking Snow,’ in a sarcastic way, or ‘why do you ask, worried I have lost the strength to kill you?’. But Baz just looks at him and stays quiet.

“Baz?” Simon says, his voice a lot quieter. “I just- If you’re not plotting something, and you wrote that music. Don’t get me wrong, it was beautiful, but there was also a lot of… pain, in it.” He doesn’t know why he says all of this, he doesn’t know why he cares. He just knows that he does. He knows he doesn’t want Baz to be in pain. And he wants to help him take it away. For some strange reason – Simon wants to make Baz smile.

He can see Baz swallow, but he still isn’t saying anything. Maybe Simon somehow ended up in some kind of alternative universe where _he_ is the talker and Baz is the one who can’t use his words.

“I guess what I’m trying to say – I’m… I’m sorry I just took that paper and didn’t believe it wasn’t a plot. I didn’t have the right to take it.”   
Baz nods at that and seems to find his voice again.

“Yeah, you didn’t. But it’s fine, whatever.” His face looks congested, like it’s difficult to form words, and he’s blinking more often than usual. Simon thinks there might actually be some tears filling those usually cold eyes.

“Baz,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. “Baz, what’s wrong?”

“It’s fine, Snow, just stop asking”

“No, I’ve never heard anything so heart breaking before, yet so beautiful. What’s going on with you?”

“Stop asking, please.”

Simon crosses his arms in front of his chest and buts his chin. “No. I want you to talk to me.”

“And why would I suddenly do that, Snow,” Baz laughs frustratedly, a tear rolling from his left eye. Simon notices he’s not trying to deny that he’s hurting.

“Because – don’t ask me _why_ because I have no freaking clue, but I _care_!”

Baz laughs harder at that, but there’s no joy in it. “You don’t, Snow.”

“I do, too! I’ve been thinking about you the whole day! I want to know what’s going on and what made you compose something like that.”

“Why are you so stubborn?!”

“You’ll just have to deal with it, and tell me. I know you’re not telling anyone else, and clearly you’re in a right state so just tell me.”

“You’ve heard the music, Snow, you know what’s wrong. Crowley, you really are thick.” Another tear rolls down Baz’s face and he wipes it away frustratedly. He looks like a cornered, scared cat. The pain the music described so well is displayed on his face. He still looks beautiful, though, Simon thinks.

“Okay, fine. I know you’re hurting. But _why_? And _why_ is it titled Snow, of all things?” Simon sounds just as frustrated as Baz, but Baz knows it’s not for the same reason. Snow still thinks there’s some kind of plan, something that he’s not catching on to. Baz wonders what would happen if he just gave in. If he just told the truth. He knows it’d be bad, he knows nothing good can ever come out of this. But maybe if he admits it, it’ll all be over and he can get some closure. Maybe Simon will request a room change and Baz can finally be left alone. Wouldn’t that be something.

He locks eyes with Simon and raises his eyebrows, in answer.

“What does that mean?” Simon asks.

“Crowley you’re so _thick_ ,” Baz says, dragging his right hand across his face in desperation and sitting down on his bed.

“You’ve said that enough times now, okay, I know. But why would you write something about being in love and then title it with _my name_ , it just doesn’t make sense does- oh.” Simon’s face changes completely. From confusion to complete understanding, it clicks. Baz can see how everything suddenly falls into place, he can read it off Snow’s face.

“Yeah, oh,” Baz manages to say, somehow. His voice is hoarse and broken.

“No,” Snow just says, shaking his head. “No.” Baz doesn’t know how to react to that. It’s going exactly as he had imagined, but he is not really sure what to do with it. Even if you’re prepared for it, rejection is never nice. And he’s already crying, so he can’t really take it in his cold ‘I don’t give a fuck’ usual way.

Simon keeps saying ‘no’ as if it’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever heard. Which, Baz guesses, it probably is. Simon did always have reason to believe Baz absolutely despises him.

“Yeah,” Baz says again, willing Simon to just stop this rejection and leave him alone.

“But… you _hate_ me,” Simon says, sounding so surprised his voice is actually a pitch higher than normal.

“I do,” Baz says, hating his voice for quivering the way it does. “Crowley, Simon, I really, really do.”

“But you’re in love with me.”

“I am”

“I don’t understand. I really thought –“ Simon stops in the middle of his sentence again, and his face is doing that thing again, going from utter confusion to understanding. Some kind of realization – no, more like revelation – flashes over his face. And then… he smiles. Baz wishes he could feel angry about this, wishes he could scold at Simon for making fun of him. But he loves his smile, even if it’s there because of Baz’s pain.

“I _am_ thick,” Simon laughs. “Oh, Merlin and Morgana, I am _so_ thick!”

“What?”

“Just now- when you started crying. I was thinking about how much I just wanted to hold you and dry your tears,” Simon says. He moves over sit down next to Baz. Baz doesn’t know what is happening. What is Snow trying to say? And then Simon does just as he said, he reaches out tentatively and brushes the tears from Baz’s cheeks. He leaves his hand on his face, rubbing soft small circles with his thumb. Baz’s breath catches in his throat, he’s forgotten how to breathe. All he can think about is Simon’s eyes on his. And then Simon is moving in closer.

Simon is kissing Baz. He can’t really believe he’s doing it. He doesn’t know what led him to take this decision, but he knows it’s right, it’s what he wanted to do. It’s what he’s been wanting to do the whole evening – no, the whole day, since hearing the music. It just feels _right_.

When they pull away Simon can’t stop smiling. “See!” he exclaims. “I’ve been wanting to do that the whole day – probably way longer than day but knowing how _thick_ I am I didn’t realise, until I heard your music!”

Baz shakes his head, smiling too, timidly. “You’re not kidding, are you, Simon? Not just trying to make me feel better, or something?”

Simon kisses him again, moving his hand to the back of Baz’s neck.

“No,” he says, when they break apart for air. “I really wanted to do this.”

A while later, Simon is lying with his head on Baz’s chest, with Baz’s arms wrapped tightly around him, in a comfortable silence.

“Thank you, by the way,” Simon says silently, not moving his head but finding Baz’s hand so he can entwine their fingers.

“for what?”

Simon brings their joint hands up to his mouth to kiss Baz’s knuckles.

“For that beautiful piece of music, and naming it after _me_. I know there’s a lot of hurt in it, but it’s also absolutely beautiful.”

Baz kisses Simon’s hair in reply.

“I hope you’ll write less painful music in the future, though. Hope you won’t have to feel that way anymore.”

“With you like this, I certainly won’t”

“Good”

“Hey Baz?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad your plot turned out to be you writing a love song about me.”

“Shut up, Snow, it wasn’t a plot.”

“You called me Simon before.”

“I don’t seem to recall that.”

Simon twists around so he can press his lips against Baz’s. He can feel Baz’s smile on his mouth.

“I like this a lot better than fighting. Beautiful music, kissing you, holding you.”

“Me too, Simon, so much better.”

**\---End---**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This story was in my head for so long, I'm happy i finally got around to writing and posting it.   
> feeling pretty motivated to write some more snowbaz so keep an eye out, especially if you like Harry Style's new album because I'm pretty sure my next fic will be based off one of his songs as I'm not listening to anything else right now.   
> Happy holidays everyone!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @eversincefiveboys


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